In the spring of 1989, a friend called in the middle of the night to see if I wanted to go out for coffee. I changed out of my pajamas and walked across the street to his dorm, where he told me that I looked like Tracy Chapman. (Fast Car was a big deal back then.) 27 years have passed, and I still don’t see the resemblance.
I walked (very reluctantly) around the mall a few weeks back, and while there I saw a shirt that said “Another Day, Another Slay.” A few minutes later, I saw an “Eat, Pray, Slay” shirt. Oh, people. I know we all secretly want to be Beyoncé, but you know what? We need to just settle down and try to be the best version of ourselves.
The oldest note on my phone is from 12/19/12. It simply says “Jammy Weaselheimer.” I have no idea what it means, and I won’t delete it in case it ever comes up.
Yesterday I wrote something that included an imaginary shivering friend named Darius and my magical ability to stash beans in secret places. I either need to 1) Stop being so afraid to write short stories, and/or 2) Read more Tom Robbins novels. (Wait. Is Tom Robbins *really* 84? (And am I *really* 46?))
NEWSWORTHY ANNOUNCEMENT: Next Wednesday (12/21) will be the one year anniversary for me growing out my hair. (It’s a very big deal, right? Nothing else is going on in the world, right? CNN what? Syria who? Trump how? Russia when?)
Today I look like this:
(Confession: I don’t *really* look like this. The mascara is totally fake, and I applied the filter that seemed the most flattering. I’m not trying to fool anyone over here. I’m just trying to look scruffy glam. (Always and forever scruffy glam.) Also, it’s 18 degrees outside which means it was time to drag out the huge scarf! WINTER!)
Somebody tell me how to grab some Christmas spirit, because I’m idling at zero over here. (Tori Amos is currently playing as my background music. She’s definitely not helping me with her nine-inch nails and little fascist panties.)
15 thoughts on “And the other thing.”
These three are currently laying a strong foundation for my Christmas spirit, with a mix of other favorites of mine. For me it’s all about the music!!
LOVE your hair!!!
I do not want to be Beyoncé. I am too lazy. I am going to settle for being my second-best self.
I want Beyonce’s thighs, but I do not want to be the entire package.
I could not muster that kind of energy every day and if MY sisters fought with my husband in an elevator, I would be widowed.
Linus’s speech from a Charlie Brown Christmas – there’s your Christmas spirit, right there.
Love, love, love your hair! The scarf is really pretty as well.
This was the year I grew out my bangs. I had no hair for 3 years, then bangs for 47 years. Big hair year all around, apparently.
Lynn really loves your hair today, Think about the reason for this season, and think of the hope that he brought.
Girl, if you can be Tracy Chapman, ain’t a doubt in my mind you can be Beyoncé. Because that’s some NEXT LEVEL transformation you’re capable of.
Growing out hair is HARD! Your hairs look so cute. You are making it look easy.
I am wearing a green tunic with leggings and boots today which kind of makes me look like an elf. Unintentional. But something Christmasy silly to think about.
“Slay” to me means Buffy but I’m so 2006, hmm maybe even earlier. Beyonce eh?
“Fascist Panties”, you’re a hoot!
TOM ROBBINS IS 84?!?!?!?!?!
I don’t know what “Slay” is about. Sorry.
I DO know that your hair is fabulously cute. Really. It’s you. And that scarf is perfect.
Here’s what forced me into the Christmas spirit, maybe it will help you: Each year I take my grandson to select toys we’re going to buy to donate to Toys For Tots or a similar charity. This year our favorite local restaurant was asking for donations of shoes and jackets that will be delivered by a church group to an orphanage in Tijuana, Mexico. So that’s what we did instead of toys this year, and my grandson said to the restaurant owner when we delivered them, “It’s not just Mexico, there are poor children all over the world.” He’s seven. If he can have the Christmas spirit of giving to those with less, the rest of us can do whatever small thing we can to make someone, anyone, have one day that is better than their last one.
Lovely, lilting folk song that gets me in a happy, wintry mood.
I need an injection of Christmas spirit myself. And maybe a letting of piss and vinegar. My cup runneth over with it.
Having a very hard time dredging up Christmas spirit this year. But your hair looks wonderful.
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